The Gift
by sanbika
Summary: Jou is a sensible and reliable man. He's happy with his life and his friends. But love is anything but sensible. As he celebrates his 31st birthday, will Jou give in to love or shy away? Three-shot. Part of the Gravity universe. Jousuke and Koumi


Note: I have written a couple chapters of the _Gravity_ series and I got really excited for the Jou x Daisuke (Jousuke?) pairing that I was writing. This three-shot takes place when Daisuke is about 28 and has been hard at work in the United States establishing his chain of restaurants. Jou is 31 and has graduated from veterinary school and begun a practice in the Digital World. He and Koushiro, 30, have acquired data about Digimon and are writing a book of protocols for their medical treatment. Mimi is also 30 and films her cooking show in New York City. There will also be Koumi.

Recommended Tracks: String Quintet in C Major, No. 6, Op. 30, Part 5 Passe Calle, Luigi Boccherini; Death Cab for Cutie – I Will Possess Your Heart; Phoenix – Trying to be Cool; T.I. – Whatever You Like

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Kido Jou stretched languidly bed, noting with a groan that his back hurt. Why did his back hurt? Today was only his thirty-first birthday and already his back hurt? Was it some kind of unspoken curse, that as he entered his third decade, his body would begin to fail him? Did it start with back pain? The dark-haired man scratched his head and willed the paranoid thought pattern away. Let the hypochondria come tomorrow, today was his birthday and it would be a good day. A tinny version of a Boccherini quartet echoed from somewhere in the mess of pillows and blankets and he dug around before locating his smart phone. His mother smiled gently at him from the screen, "Happy birthday dear!" Jou smiled at her, enjoying the sense of calm that stole over him. He was, in all honesty, the Kido child most attached to his mother and had a special connection with her. She calmed him from worrying and helped him relax when he felt the pressures of school or work too keenly. "Yeah, happy birthday, Momma's boy!" "You mean, have a good day, o favored one!" His brothers Shin and Shuu entered the camera frame, wicked grins on their faces. Rolling his eyes, Jou laughed and shot back at his brothers, "Ahh, thank you for such sincere wishes, big brothers. It's not a birthday without them." The elder Kido reprimanded her sons with a firm look before turning back to the camera, "And will you be here tonight for dinner, Jou? I'm planning on making something special." Jou blushed and wracked his brain for something to say while catching a smug look passing between his two brothers.

"I-" Jou couldn't respond for a minute, panicking a little as each second passed. Did he tell his Mother that he had been in some kind of strange, unspoken friends-with-benefits-type relationship for some time now and was hoping, after some hints, that they would see each other tonight? Did he dare tell her that his friend in question was actually a younger man? Could he even admit to himself that he wanted more from the strange friendship, rather, relationship? "I probably have to work late tonight, Okaasan, but I think this Saturday we can all get together for a little party. We can even visit Otousan in the home." His mother smiled and her quiet eyes glittered. It had been difficult putting her husband into a nursing home, but his early onset dementia had been terrible and swift. That Jou visited his father every weekend spoke to what kind of son he was. "Well, I have an early morning appointment with the dentist. I'll be going. Have a good birthday, my dear." Just as Jou was about to end the call, his brothers crowded over the tablet, eyeing him with mirth and suspicion. "Just a minute, little bro. Jun mentioned an interesting tidbit to Shuu the other day. She said something about her little brother having a daily phone call with you? And she even said that you two have had dinner together at least a couple of times…. You wouldn't be holding out on us, now would you?" Jou felt a red flush spread from his ears to his neck, and couldn't keep his voice from cracking a little, "Th-those calls are strictly medical in nature!" Shuu cackled at him, "Medical? Jou, aren't you a digital veterinarian? Is Motomiya Daisuke some kind of digimon, now?" He accidentally on purpose dropped his phone so that it would end the call and clambered out of bed, muttering mild curses.

It was early morning in Tokyo but in New York City it was just heading into the afternoon. As he ate his breakfast and then ironed his shirt, Jou couldn't help but glance at his phone every now and then. He and Daisuke _had_ taken to calling each other in the mornings, and at first, it _had_ been strictly for medical advice, he was even compensated for his time! After the Gate Incident, Daisuke had quite a lot of medications to prevent clotting and scarring and therapies to regain feeling and movement in his face and right arm. As much as he had grown, he still needed help remembering which pill to take when and, sometimes, a good reprimand telling him to take them at all. Those calls had begun once a week, when Daisuke had a worrying symptom and needed some guidance. Jou wasn't a medical doctor, but he had enough experience to know basics that helped calm the young chef down. He found himself kind of swept away in Daisuke's whirlwind of energy, and found that the phone calls became longer and longer, and more frequent. Jou could even admit that he was also attracted to the intense sincerity and vulnerability that Daisuke wasn't even aware he had. Whether he was talking about his restaurant, idle gossip about the Chosen Children or their families, or even complaints about the state of the economy, Daisuke opined, demanded his friend weigh on the topics, and casually shared deep truths about himself in the space of a breath. Jou found himself enjoying these calls more than was strictly professional.

A year or so ago, Daisuke had visited Japan, and reserved one night to take Jou out to some uncomfortably expensive place. Jou had been prepared to pay but Daisuke insisted that he would since he had invited him in the first place and besides, it was reimbursement for the hours spent on the phone, or so Jou thought. In actuality, it was a celebration dinner: his fast-casual and local restaurant, Moto Ramen, had expanded into a tightly controlled chain of 10 U.S. locations and one fine dining authentic Japanese location, M, in London. Jou had asked why Daisuke hadn't wanted to celebrate with his family, his best friend Ken or the other Chosen and Daisuke had just given him an incredulous look before asking what looked good to him.

That night Jou had laughed more than he knew he could and ate food that was ridiculously good, good enough to make him reconsider Daisuke's conspiracy theories about the wealthy elite. Daisuke also mentioned how hard it was to meet people as he got older, how the dates he had been on in New York still gave him nightmares. Jou told the younger man about his studies and research and was pleased to see him hanging on to every word, despite the many boring anecdotes he couldn't help but tell. He heard about the plans Daisuke, Taichi, and Hikari had to start a charitable foundation on behalf of the Chosen Children for poor children and their digimon partners in developing countries and was touched. Jou reminisced on his difficulties in the Digital World as a young boy and why he felt conflicted about his passion for helping Digimon when his family expected him to carry on their traditional doctor practice. He even told him about his father, and how hard it had been putting him into a nursing home, even when it was the safest option. Later, he gawked when he heard Daisuke sheepishly tell him how much he was worth, and clapped him on the shoulder when he saw the pride in his warm brown eyes. The redhead had put so much hard work and time into this pipe dream, he cried when he realized it was going to come true. And Jou had drunk wine, so much burgundy wine that he had started comparing it to the dark red shock of hair across from him. They had left with the intention of getting coffee and found themselves walking into the dark-haired man's apartment. Jou had turned to the smaller man, embracing him. There had been kissing and caressing, and a passion neither had recognized. And that was how it had been for the last year. Daisuke had been visiting Japan a bit more than usual and Jou was unable to ask him why, afraid of getting an answer that he couldn't quite bring himself to consider. They would meet, talk, kiss, enjoy the company, and never talk about their future or where they were headed.

But now, on his birthday, Jou was debating the merits of the arrangement. He checked his phone compulsively for a call that hadn't come, and why would it? Wasn't this casual, uncommitted relationship the epitome of modern romance? How could Daisuke be expected to know any better when he himself hadn't even asked for any definitions or boundaries in their relationship? His phone buzzed and in his haste to grab it, he slapped it off the table and fell over a chair trying to catch it. Jou sighed, at least some things, like his ability to trip over invisible objects, were constant. He read the text and felt a disappointing lurch in his stomach: **"Sorry I couldn't call. In meeting. Happy b-day! –D."** Jou sat up, frowning, and straightened his glasses. It was time to head to work or he'd be late, not that Gomamon would mind. But Koushiro definitely would give him an earful. He slipped his phone into neat khaki pants and pushed his hurt feelings aside. He was Jou and he was reliable.


End file.
